


Memorial Day

by Seraphimrose



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drabble, I felt the need to write something out, Memorial day drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraphimrose/pseuds/Seraphimrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Memorial Day: May 26th, A National Holiday celebrating and honoring soldiers who died in the line of duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorial Day

  
  
  
This day meant little to others, the Garrison, the Military Police. It was a holiday where everyone could stop, and smile and enjoy a relaxing day off. They could cook and party and shout patriotism into the skies as they thanked the world they live behind the safety of their walls.  As the walls fell the day became a grim reminder to stop and think and remember the many who had fallen in the everlasting war to save humanity.  
  
  
For the Survey Corps, this rang especially true.  
  


Nanaba walked in unison with her regiment  Her steps snapping against the cobblestones with the rest of her squad. She stood in the line of soldiers, clad in formal uniforms used only for celebration or for mourning.  Her Rifle crossed over her chest and white dress gloves were adorned by every soldier in the immaculate line. Her face was expressionless - a mask. They were trained to betray nothing during the service. This was something that demanded her respect and the respect of those willing to fight, and those that died trying.  Her salute was crisp and sharp as her fist beat her chest and the small of her back.  
  
They moved in time like a well-oiled machine. The barked orders from a Captain behind them were the prompt as the rifles turned from her back, twirling and spinning to place in front of them. This was a dance, turning sharply to the right the rifled spun and twirled against their hands. Nanaba heard the uniform sound of twenty rifles snapping into the gloved palms of her comrades, of shoes snapping into place as they marched and turned, the rifles snapping to their chests. Nanaba had done this too many times, each time she felt they never did their fallen soldiers justice.

  
  
“About, FACE!”  The order roared from behind her and they all turned at the same moment to the same location. Their gaze held steady forward, the Rifles still and held extended from their bodies, before the butt went to their shoulder. Each order rang in her ears, each soldier moved in perfect time with one another in a solemn tribute to their brothers and sisters in arms. The Rifles were raised, and in one defining shot, twenty one guns were fired into the air.

  
  
Civilians always jump at the first shot and Nanaba's years rand. Her hand gripped the casing, and with a sharp tug the empty case sprang from the rifle, and clattered to the ground - The bullets were all blanks. Another bullet was slid into the barrel and aimed up at the sky with the sharp order given by their Captain.  Everyone was silent as they listened to the bullets echo against the distant walls.

  
  
Each shot was meant to symbolize a fallen soldier.  Each shot fired in the sky was like a cry in anger that they were taken so prematurely from them.  But twenty one shots never felt like enough. After the air held the smell of gunpowder the rifles dropped to snap to the ground beside their boots, her hand gripped the still warm barrel of her Rifle as the final tribute rang out into the stunned silence of the crowd.  


  
 In the silence, a lone trumpet sang its somber tune into the air. Nanaba’s eyes were heavy and her heart ached at the tune, she didn’t steal a glance to her friends, her comrades who stood motionless beside her. They all would have looked the same as they held themselves together.  


  
Still in perfect unison their  rifles were lifted and they walked off, Stepping in time away from the crowds of people and they were left to mingle and celebrate in their own ways.  As they walked outside of the town to the horses that would bring them back to their headquarters they were allowed to move freely and all of their bodies seemed to sink and slump back into a dull and relaxed position like a puppet cut of it's strings. Those off this ceremonial brigade were more seasoned veterans of the survey corps -Even they had their limits. Being more seasoned made her harder to death, better trained, but it only added more weight to her heart. The list of dead friends grew longer each year. Nanaba was saddling up her horse before a head leaned heavily against her shoulder.  A younger girl, Millie who lost so much so fast had finally cracked and began to cry against Nanaba’s back. Silent tears soaked into her uniform and Millie’s shoulders quivered as she struggled to keep herself together.  Her fingers rose, gripping Nanaba’s elbow in a wordless plea for comfort.  


  
Nanaba turned quickly and pulled the younger soldier into a tight, encasing hug. Her chin resting atop of curly ginger hair as the girl began to openly weep into Nanaba’s chest. “Shh…Shh….”  There was nothing Nanaba could say to relieve the pain of the moment, nothing anyone hadn’t said to her before. There was nothing any of them hadn’t heard themselves in the wake of losing someone irreplaceable to you. All you could do was hold them tight, and let the wave of grief pass with as much grace as could be mustered. 

  
  
  
Twenty one guns were never enough.  


  
  
Nanaba looked up at the amber sky now, her rifle, and a small satchel thrown over her shoulder as she made her way down the dirt trail.  The Survey Corps were given a leave for the day to spend their time with their loved ones, their comrades. Remember those who are still alive, and to remember those who were not.  


  
This was a ritual at this point, Nanaba thought as she made her way down the path. She shifted the hard leather over the soft white cotton of her civilian clothes.  Her dress uniform was shed, and replaced with only the white quarter sleeve top and a pair of dark comfortable pants.  Nanaba walked in silence as she let her memories drift over those who she had lost. Stepping over the few rocks along the trails and turned, walking over the steep grassy slopes beside the Surveys headquarters. She walked along a wide sloping hill that gave way to the meadow where the horses grazed calmly.  Here you could look over miles of grass and trees, to the distant walls of Rose. It was one of her favorite places near the headquarters. Far enough away to get the isolation she desired but close enough to not disappear.

  
  
In the middle of the large rounded hill she stopped, pulled the Rifle from her shoulder and dropped the satchel that jingled with the small cache of bullets she had accumulated throughout the year.

  
  
Thirty seven bullets in total. The total number of people she cared about who were taken from her in the years of service she gave to humanity. Each year the number grew, each year on this day she did this. She slipped the first bullet into the barrel, lifted the rifle to the sky, towards the wall, towards the Titans and shot.  The loud crack echoed through the sloping hills, it's sound quickly gobbled up by the thick forest. Gunpowder burned her nose, her eyes and the empty shell popped out and fell to the grass. Dexturous fingers moved the second bullet easily into the barrel in a simple meditative motion. The rifle was raised and fired one after another, after another after another.

  
  
Twenty one guns were never enough.

  
  
Soon all the bullets were fired and Nanaba’s arms felt heavy from holding the gun, her shoulder ached from the backlash and her eyes and nose stung from the gunpowder. The rifle dropped from her shoulder to the grass and she sank down beside it onto the cool sturdy ground. Soft grass stroked her cheek the warm smell of earth filled her senses, banishing the sharp scent the gun powder away. In the lingering rays of the sun  licked at her skin as Nanaba laid there, curled up against the grass. She was motionless now, completely absorbed in feeling the warm summer breeze kiss her cheeks and brush the grasses against her forearms. The air was gradually filled with the sounds of the rattling wings of large bugs, the whistle of birds as they flew overhead. The sky was gradually painted amber as the sun started to set, turning the clouds vibrant shades of pink and orange.

  
  
Nanaba could only stand still, let the ringing fade from her body, close her eyes and hope that the afterlife was this peaceful.    


**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something in my own little tribute for Memorial Day. I might write one up for Levi but I am not sure.


End file.
